Same Time Next Week

I'd never had a massage in the UK. I'd never needed one or wanted the sort of pleasure I gained from attending spas in such places as Crete, Thailand and Spain. I had enjoyed those. They were part relaxing, part sheer pleasure and part, I knew, but they were not sold that way, part erotic. But now I needed one. I needed a proper massage. My back was so tight and had been for two weeks now. I had to do something.

I wasn't a member of the gym just down the road from where I lived with my mum. She was a member and it was her suggestion that I book a massage there.

"There seems to be quite a few masseurs, some quite dishy too" she said smiling as she climbed out of our very warm, half indoor and half out pool. She was topless as she often was nowadays. The sight of her full, naked breasts swaying and jiggling as she walked towards me made me gulp. I had a thing about my mum, but it was in my mind and no one knew about it.

I was amazed when I saw you coming towards me. You were one of the guys who I saw in the pub. Getting on a bit, probably in your late fifties or early sixties, you were still pretty cool and the glint in your eyes and the way you held my gaze just a little longer than etiquette suggests, made me realise there was still lead in your pencil. I had never thought of you in a sexual way and although I was quite inclined towards older men, a thirty five or so year age gap was pushing it. We had exchanged pleasantries and I had seen you looking at me quite often so I felt I knew you.

"Hi" you said walking over to where I was sitting in the waiting room. You were wearing shiny blue tracky trousers with three white lines down the sides of each legs and a white tee shirt. You looked good.

"Oh hello" I replied looking at you.

"You're next in the queue" you told me taking a folder from a tray and opening it."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"So what's that mean?"

"That you get me for your massage."

"Oooo that's nice."

You led me into a very clean, almost sterile cubicle and after glancing at the folder said. "I see you want a full body massage."

"Well there was no option on the website as to which parts, so I went for the lot."

"Why not?"

"No reason."

"Do you have any problems?"

I almost said 'Well other than fancying my mum, having a forty two year old as a lover and posing in underwear and naked for photographers, no I don't.' But instead I told you about the tightness in my back and my upper leg at the back.

"Have you been doing anything strenuous that puts a strain on your back?" You asked a knowing smile on your face.

"Nothing, well no more than usual."

"So what's usual?" You asked looking me right in the eye.

I didn't know what to say so I mumbled. "Oh you know."

"Any idea what has caused it?"

"No."

"Well let's get going shall we?"

"Going where?"

"With the massage."

"Oh I see, yes let's."

You said something about me putting myself in your hands, which I thought was a bit yucky, but then age does that.

You explained that I should get undressed while you were out of the room and lie on the table with the thin sheet over me.

"Everything?"

"Well keep your panties on if you are shy" you told me raising the erotic barometric pressure.

As I undressed that phrase came into my mind several times. 'I'm from Essex' I thought 'We can do no panties.'

I undressed completely carefully folding my top, jeans and bra onto a chair leaving my little dark blue thong on top of the pile. I wondered if you would notice. Lying naked under the sheet as you had told me I momentarily wondered just what I was doing. Wasn't a bit risky? Wasn't it possible that masseurs tried to take advantage of women? Why were there no female masseuses? But, I rationalised, the gym was owned by Virgin and they were a global and well-respected company who surely wouldn't let anything untoward go on at their gyms! And on top of that you were an 'elder statesman' who I vaguely knew and that reassured me. I smiled when I thought 'he may even be past it!'

By the time you came back I had almost forgotten about all that and after a few minutes of you massaging my back all such thoughts had left my mind completely. You had pulled the sheet down so it was round my waist or did it go further, did you lift it up, did you have a peep at my bum? That didn't seem to matter, though once the warm oil and your hands were on my back. You clearly knew what you were doing for you were massaging me very deeply, more so than at the spas, but you didn't hurt me. I could feel the tension and tightness leaving me and I relaxed and gave into the luxurious feelings of your hands and fingers on my back. You started at the bottom of my back just by my waist and gradually worked upwards and outwards. The warm, sweet smelling oil and the sensations from your fingers combined to make me feel very mellow. It was almost as if I went into a trance or you hypnotised me for nothing else seemed to exist other than my body, your hands, the oil and the massage table. In my mind they merged together and became one, they became everything, they became my world. My body was tingling everywhere and it felt as if my mind was leaving it and was floating around. It was just like smoking a strong joint.

Several times you asked if everything was ok and my replies varied from 'fine' to 'very nice' a few minutes later' and then 'divine' after what might have been ten minutes or an hour, my mind having lost the ability to record time so intoxicated was it with pleasure.

You had slid well down my back several times with your fingers seeming to go slightly under the sheet covering my bum and onto my cheeks. A couple of times your fingers slid almost into the crease between my cheeks just stopping when they reached my coccyx . That sent little tremors through me; 'were they accidents' I wondered. Also as you slithered your hands up or down the sides of my body I would feel them brush the edge of my breasts and that began to arouse me. 'Count sheep, think of a cooking recipe or recite some Shakespeare' I told myself fighting hard against the temptation.

I felt you lift my left arm, bend it at the elbow, ease it behind me, turn it over and place the back of my wrist on my slone. That lifted my shoulder joint up a little. Although I had never had that done to me before I didn't think anything of it especially when you started massaging through my armpit round and up onto my shoulder blade. But then I felt your hands sliding further downwards right along the area where my breast becomes my side. The sensation was acute and immediate. I may have grunted, but said nothing even when your hand went further. 'Is he really massaging the side of my breast' I asked myself? I knew the answer and that was yes for slowly you went further and further down the side of my boob and it felt not only wonderful, but perfectly ok. But this shouldn't happen. You shouldn't be doing this or was I imagining it? Maybe accidental brushings of sensitive parts of a body are unavoidable.

"Is that ok Sammi?" I heard you whisper giving me the ideal opportunity to stop you.

"Mmmm you're very good at this" I rather inanely murmured not sure whether I should stop you or not. I didn't stop you for I don't think I had the will power to do that. Something other than my mind seemed to be directing me. A greater force appeared to be taking me over. The demands of my body were in a strong conflict with the sensibility of my mind. And you seemed to be totally aware of that. It was as if your hands could read my body. I couldn't understand what was happening, particularly when I lifted my left shoulder a little further. Nevertheless, I got an immediate reward for your such pleasure giving hands slid right down and along the side of my boob almost as far as my nipple. It was lovely, so much so that I lifted invitingly further and let out a low moan. 'God what must he think?' I asked myself wondering if you felt I was enticing you, setting a honey trap or leading you on. When you moved your hands away I was sure that you felt that and I was waiting for you to end the massage. I visualised you reporting me to the management and maybe even the police.

My worry was unfounded for your hands were quickly back on me taking my right arm and repeating the manipulations you had done with my left. For some crazy reason I felt elated. It was as if a weight had been lifted from me, almost as if I had won something.

I seemed to go further into that small world of my body, the oil, your hands and the table, but that now included another item, my breast. Your hands had only completed one slow sweep from my armpit to my shoulder blade when this time I not only lifted my shoulder a little further, but I also turned my body a bit. There was no hesitation whatsoever. You knew immediately what I wanted, no more needed than wanted. Your hand went exactly where I had hoped it would go. There was no pretence now, no pretending it was an accident and none of the surreptitious touches of earlier. I realised that you had 'softened me up' with my left breast and was 'going for the kill' with my right. You didn't try to massage it, you didn't run along the side of it or slide your hand over it. No you cupped it. You gripped it and squeezed it. There was no doubt now. This was no accident, it wasn't a freak moment and I saw now that we were in this together. I grunted and sighed with the pleasure and excitement as you pressed your fingers against my nipple that I knew would be horrendously swollen. I didn't know how long you played with my tit. That didn't matter. What mattered was that we were doing exactly what we both desired.

You gently put my arm back by my side and asked if I was ok.

"Fucking marvellous" I very much over the top replied as I felt more oil being drizzled onto my back.

You started to massage my back again, but this time you went further than my back. This time as your glorious hands slid down they went right onto the cheeks of my bum and massaged and fondled that quite firmly.

As if from afar I heard you say. "You mentioned your thighs, would you like me to pay some attention to them?"

I nodded my head and moaned. "Mmm-hmm," not trusting myself to speak.

You moved to the foot of the table and I felt you lift the sheet the edge of the sheet which had been resting across my bum just above, I thought where the crease starts. I didn't know what you were going to do or what was going to happen, but suddenly I felt the sheet being pulled away as I lie there naked. That made my heart pound. I knew you would be ogling my nudity, focusing on the crease between the cheeks of my bum and on the puffy, blood swollen lips that would be peeping between my legs. And that excited me. Just as I had enjoyed flaunting my body at photographers so I was getting excited at exposing it to you. I smiled when I thought, 'Friday nights at the pub will never be the same again!'

You started on the backs of my thighs, but quickly went back to my bum and really went to town on that massaging each cheek very firmly and deeply. That made me grunt, part with a slight pain, but more with arousal. I've always had a sensitive arse and love having it played with. Normally such playing is soft, gentle and teasing. There was none of that with your massage. No you went at my cheeks with energy, vigour and power. You dug so deep into them that you made me gasp. I had never experienced anything like this before, but then I have never had my bum spanked and that is what I aligned what you were doing to.

As you squeezed, pressed and pummelled my cheeks so you let your fingers slide into and along the crease between them sending thunderbolts of sensation through me as they slid right across my anal hole.

I wasn't cumming, but I was experiencing sensations similar to a climax. I knew that my breathing was ragged, that my head was rolling from side to side, that I was gripping the table and that my bum was squirming around as soft, but obviously discernable moans and sighs escaped from my mouth

It had become obvious that this was more than a massage. It was clear that you wanted to give me more, much more than just the therapeutic benefits that come from one. Maybe you always did it, perhaps many or most women gave into the tremendous temptations of being naked and massaged by a man. Possibly it had been your intention all along to do more to me than what was on the tin. These thought were going through my mind as I wondered just how this would end.

I still wanted more. Precisely what that more was I didn't know. Maybe it was just more massage, perhaps it would be you fingering me and boy was my cunt aching for that or possibly we would have mutual masturbation. It didn't really occur to me that we might fuck. Why not? After all you'd played with my tits and had run your fingers along the crease of bum pausing suggestively right on the hole.

I wanted more involvement too. I am not in the habit of being totally under a man's, or a woman's come to that control when having sex. I need to be an equal participant.

I lifted my body and turned onto my side.

"Why don't you do me this side," I murmured, fanning my hair out on the white pillow behind me and then settling with my arms by my sides. As I did that I momentarily wondered whether the door was locked and thought of mentioning it. But I didn't for the idea of someone walking in unexpectedly had some appeal. It also had some concerns for whoever came in might accuse me of leading you on. I put it from my mind and relaxed waiting for you to attend to the front of my body

You moved to the top of the table behind my head so I couldn't see you. Nothing happened for a moment or two and ridiculously I wondered, half hoping too, if you were undressing and was about to fuck me. But deep down I knew that wouldn't happen. It would be taking things far too far; this was the health spa in well-respected global company not a seedy massage parlour in the high street of an inner city borough. Nevertheless, I felt a slight touch of disappointment when your hand came into sight holding the oil bottle. That quickly went away, however, when you poured the oil onto my body right between my tits. Again all pretence that this was anything other than an erotic and sexual massage vanished for immediately you smoothed the oil into each of my breasts. That felt lovely. So knowing of precisely what I needed you pinched each of my nipples and pulled them, quite hard. That seemed to reduce the pressure that had built up in my tits and I let out a deep sigh. God you were so fucking brilliant at this. You seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of exactly what I wanted and how far to go at each stage. 'Fuck I bet he's a great fuck' I was thinking as I lie there with my eyes closed. My mind was now most certainly not counting sheep, thinking of recipes or bloody Shakespeare, it was focused firmly on just one thing 'being fucked and being fucked by you.

"Oh shit" I said as I felt a strong pain in each of my nipples where you were pinching them hard and pulling them at the same time.

"Ok?" You asked, not reducing the pressure.

As with many sexual activities there is such a narrow threshold between pain and pleasure and quickly, as I am sure you knew from experienceI was embracing that threshold and crossing it.

"Nice?"

"Mmmmm awesome" I groaned.

You let go of them and began to massage my oiled tits again so wonderfully and for such a long time. Once more I had the feeling of nearly, but not quite cumming.

Still standing behind me out of my sight apart from your arms and hands you adopted a marvellous routine for a few minutes. Squeezing, pulling and pushing each boob up, down and then together your hands then left them and slid down the my body. Your thumbs ran right down the centre with the rest of your fingers curled round me so they slithered down either side. They ran from my tits, down my lower chest, past my waist and onto my tummy. The first time you did it I thought they would slide all the way and you would grab my pussy, but they didn't. Once they were on my waist both thumbs turned sharply outwards so they slithered across my groins onto my hips and then back up my side and onto my tits. As you did that you had to lean forward and your tee shirt covered chest would rub against my face. Each time you leaned further forward so your chest would press harder on my face; it was amazingly erotic. And that was made more so when I felt a pressure on the top of my head. The pressure increased as your hands slid down me and then decreased as they came upwards. It hit me like a log when I realised it was your cock pressing and squirming against the top of my head. 'Jesus' I thought 'He's even fucking my head.

Inevitably I suppose for I assumed it was part of your practised 'routine' on each sweep your hands went further. Past my waist, onto the slight swell of my tummy, over the slope, downwards, onto the edge of my landing strip of pubes and into them. Each sweep downwards gave me such incredible sensations that I unashamedly moaned and groaned my pleasure, arched my back, rolled my head from side to side and gripped the table even more firmly. After visiting my pubic patch I knew that there was only one more place for them to go. And if I knew I was sure that you did as well and that your intent on the next downward slither was to go there.

Your hands left my tits again. They moved more slowly than the other times. There was more intent and they moved with a clear purpose that I am sure we both felt. They paused as your thumbs pressed into my tummy button. They edged onto my stomach, inched down its flatness, slid into my hairs, went down the three by one and half inch strip and right onto my cunt. Expertly with no young buck fumbling you ran back and forth along my slit. That made my body buck like a young horse being ridden for the first time.

"Oh my God" I groaned arching my back and squashing my tits against your chest as your fingers so easily found my clit hidden, well maybe it wasn't, in its little pink hood. You rubbed it with exactly the right amount of pressure. It was fucking marvellous.

You moved alongside the table and we looked at each other. We smiled and our other hands clasped. It was lovely holding one of your hands against my pussy in a sexual mode whilst gently holding the other in a tender gesture. I couldn't avoid seeing that you were hard, but then I knew that from how you had dry fucked my blonde head. It would have been impossible to hide it for it was rearing encouragingly and invitingly right up the centre of your stomach. You knew I was looking at it and you looked down to it as your finger on my clit made me cum. You cuddled me through the delicious vigours of a full blown orgasm.

"Was it good Sammi?"

"Oh Hal it was fucking marvellous" I sighed revelling in the post climatic tremors, little shudders and the warmth that flowed through me.

I knew that there had to be a price to pay for the pleasure you had given me. I was ready and prepared to pay the price, whatever it might be; hand job, blow job, cum on my tits or a full on fuck, but it was down to you, after all it was your show.

You started on my tits again. But this time it clearly wasn't a massage, not even a soft, sexy and erotic massage. No this time as you held my hand in one of yours and we squeezed each other you caressed my breasts with your other hand. Squeezing, stroking, rubbing and gently pinching my nipples you held my gaze as you slowly lifted my hand and placed it right on the top of my other breast. I did what came naturally and with my hand I repeated what you were doing on my other boob. It was lovely.